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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27235879">Love is a Fragile Dance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottercakes/pseuds/ottercakes'>ottercakes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pitch Perfect (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bit of Fluff, Depression, F/F, OCD, Self Harm, bit of staubrey, but i needed a title ok, chapters are all super short, happy ending I promise, hints of anorexia, let's not be dicks about it, mostly Bechloe, the song has nothing to do with the story, they're basically crying in every scene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:20:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,620</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27235879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottercakes/pseuds/ottercakes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mostly Bechloe, little bit of Staubrey but not much. Set after semifinals in PP1, Beca self harms, lots of angst but they'll turn out okay in the end. TW: self harm, OCD, depression, implied/hints of anorexia</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Beale &amp; Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell, Stacie Conrad &amp; Aubrey Posen, Stacie Conrad/Aubrey Posen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Trigger warning for self harm, OCD, and brief hints/description of anorexia. Please don’t read if you may be sensitive to the material in this work. Each chapter is also super short for whatever reason.<br/>Long A/N coming up: if the second part doesn’t apply to you, you can skip it, but if it does, please read it!<br/>(This is a note from me, ottercakes, the writer of this fic--not sc6997019) This draws inspiration from a lot of fics I’ve read, but I created it mostly because of personal experience. Also, Love is a Fragile Dance is an incredible demo by Alec Benjamin--highly recommend listening to it. In terms of the story itself, it’s pretty (read:entirely) irrelevant, but I like it and I need a title, okay? Another note: this is not following the story in Pitch Perfect all that much--just felt like I needed to say that. Some of it, like how Beca leaves after the semifinals, is accurate, but after that it’s gonna be sorta AU. Chloe won’t have nodes, and I want to make Aubrey a little more caring (than she is in the first one, at least). Also, I’m new here, so feedback is welcome!</p><p>Note to those who are self harming, considering it, or just feeling low in general, especially those who are LGBTQ+: Wait, I’m not going to tell you to stop self harming or anything, just please read this! I’ll try to make it worth your while. So, you probably ignored my trigger warning--I’ve been there. Listen, I’m not going to tell you that you’re beautiful and that you don’t deserve to treat yourself badly--it’s true, but you’ve probably been told that before, and maybe you just don’t believe it. I just want to tell you about a resource that you may or may not know about--the Trevor Project. It isn’t just for those contemplating suicide. I wish I’d known that before. I’d heard about it (from Anna Kendrick, coincidentally), and for the longest time, I thought that it was just a suicide hotline. It’s more than that! You can call TrevorLifeline if you’re in crisis, but even if you just need a safe, anonymous place to chat about any LGBTQ related issues, you can use TrevorChat or TrevorText. All three are accessible through here: https://www.thetrevorproject.org/get-help-now/. Even if you just need someone to talk to because you don’t have any friends or family who understand LGBTQ related issues, or even if you do but you want to talk anonymously--whatever the reason, Trevor is a great resource. Another note: I just wanted to emphasize the point that your pain is valid. Whatever you’re going through is valid. This note and the following fic isn’t intended to invalidate anyone, and it’s so important to realize that even if other people say things that make you feel like you need to be hurting any more than you are, you don’t. Whatever you’re feeling--if you’re just feeling low, if you’re considering self harm, if you are self harming, it’s all valid. Never feel like you need to cry harder or cut deeper--or do any of those things at all. You’re deserving of help, and reaching out to Trevor is a great start. If anyone is contemplating suicide, however, call 911, TrevorLifeline, or another suicide hotline. TransLifeline as well is a great resource for anyone having trouble with their gender, and again, you don’t need to be contemplating suicide to use it: https://translifeline.org/. Now, enough of my rambling. Hope you like the fic, and again, feedback is welcome. :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beca felt a hot tear slip down her cheek. It’s been a week since she first walked out. Since she last saw Chloe’s beautiful red hair. Since she blew up at Jesse. She’d gone out of her way to make sure she never crossed paths with them. She went to class and kept her grades afloat so as not to make her dad suspicious, but she was essentially a husk of the girl she used to be. </p><p>She sighed, slowly moving her hands under her shirt and sliding them across the scabs and scars that littered the skin over her protruding ribs. Biting her lip, she grabbed her shower kit and made her out of her room and down the hall.</p><p>Beca took a deep breath as she pushed the door open, remembering how she’d walked into this room just a few months ago just after she first met the most gorgeous person she’d ever seen, who had an even more beautiful heart. Please, she thought, Chloe, please come back to me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.</p><p>The petite girl took another shuddering breath, and as she slipped out of her dark navy robe, she began to sing. Her voice felt odd after not being used for so long, but she didn’t care--she almost wanted Chloe to burst into her shower again, desperately wishing to see those lovely blue eyes that captured her soul and made her feel like she could mend the hell she had unleashed upon herself, made her feel like she was enough. Like she was loved. Like she was worth it.</p><p>	He’s three drinks down and he’s driving fast,<br/>	He’s calling her up but she took a cab<br/>	Back to their one room apartment<br/>	Back to where it all started</p><p>	Beca paused for a moment, feeling the hot water from the shower wash over her body and flow with her tears.</p><p>	He’s walking up to the doorway<br/>	Walking in just to realize<br/>	She was long gone ‘fore he got there<br/>	Broken glass in the bathroom</p><p>	Love is such a fragile dance,<br/>	This love is a fragile dance</p><p>	Beca finished her shower in silence. Her sobs were drowned out by the sound of the water hitting the floor. She faced away from the door the entire time, hoping she’d hear that amazing voice behind her, that she’d turn around and Chloe would be there. No one came.</p><p>	The brunette made her way back to her dorm. Kimmy Jin wasn’t there, which she was grateful for. She lay down in bed, sighing as her eyes met the granola bars her roommate was leaving her collecting on the desk next to her. She didn’t think that the girl who seemed so cold and uninterested in her cared at all, but it made her feel a little better.</p><p>She slowly leaned over and grabbed her disposable razor from her shower kit. It was bulky and made extremely shallow cuts, always in groups of three, but the pain was enough. This way, she didn’t have to feel like she was hurting herself. She didn’t feel like she needed to get help, because the cuts were never too deep. She made sure that she never felt sorry for herself. It was her fault. Her fault for walking out. Her fault for leaving the only person who had ever made her truly happy.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe had just returned to her apartment from school, and immediately threw herself onto the sofa, face down. </p><p>“Are...you okay?” Aubrey asked, tentatively walking over to where her roommate’s head was. </p><p>Chloe gave an irritated sigh and met Aubrey’s eyes with a glare. She got up and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door pointedly. She couldn’t forgive her friend for what she’d done. How could she? Aubrey knew how much Beca meant to her. She saw the way they looked at each other. She knew that Beca was the one thing that kept Chloe going, even when she felt like breaking down under the pressure of school and even Aubrey herself.</p><p>A tear traced a path down her cheek. Another followed. Chloe’s body shook with silent sobs, and she clung to the sink to steady herself. She couldn’t bear to look in the mirror, so she kept her head down and cried.</p><p>There was a quiet knock on the door. Chloe didn’t move. Aubrey spoke, her voice so soft and heavy with guilt that Chloe almost felt bad. Almost. “Hey, Chlo, I’m--I’m so sorry. I know, apologies won’t make up for what I did--I just--I’m really sorry that I’ve caused you so much pain. But...um...yeah. You should talk to her. She’s going to be coming from her class near the library tomorrow around 10. Find her. Please. I can’t--I can’t bear to watch you do this to yourself. I’m sorry.” She finished with a whisper, and Chloe knew that she was crying on the other side of the door.</p><p>	Chloe nervously took a seat on a bench near the library. She hadn’t spoken to Aubrey since last night, but the blonde’s words had stuck in her head. It was still 9:45, but she’d wanted to catch Beca before she disappeared back to her dorm, or wherever she was spending all of her time these days. </p><p>The redhead closed her eyes, silently praying that Beca wouldn’t hate her. That she wouldn’t run away, that she was okay, that she wouldn’t shut her out again. But Chloe knew that what she was the most afraid of--and she hated herself for it, she hated to admit that she was this shallow and self-obsessed--was that Beca was fine. Completely fine. That she’d moved on without her, that she had friends and was maybe even dating someone. That she had recovered, while Chloe had not.</p><p>Just then, Chloe saw a small figure with their head down quickly making their way across the quad, towards the Baker Hall dorms. Beca. Chloe immediately hopped up from her seat, jogging to catch up with the small brunette. </p><p>“Beca?” Chloe called. The girl snapped her head up, and a look of panic flashed in her eyes before she regained her composure. </p><p>“Oh! Uh...hey…” Beca said, chewing her lip and fidgeting with her sleeve.</p><p>“I--I wanted to talk to you, maybe...if you’re free...and only if you want to, of course, but I just thought, maybe you--I--I don’t know...” Chloe paused, not sure exactly what to say. </p><p>“Maybe I...what?” Beca asked softly, still not meeting Chloe’s eyes.</p><p>“Want to...grab some coffee? Maybe? I get it if you’re mad or something, I just...yeah.”</p><p>Beca pressed her lips together. She wanted to. She desperately wanted to, and for some reason, she hated herself for that. She almost cried again, thinking of how no matter how physically close she was to Chloe, no matter how much they spoke, she’d never be able to tell Chloe what was really going on. This was her battle, her mistakes that she was paying for, or rather, punishing herself for. She knew that if Chloe found out, she would feel sorry for her, make her get help. If she found out, she would wrap her arms around her and hold her, and tell her it’s okay. Tell her it’s not her fault. But it was her fault. And Beca also knew that Chloe would find out if she spent enough time near Beca. And Beca really didn’t want Chloe to find out.</p><p>But for some reason, she said, “Coffee sounds great. Tomorrow at 9?”</p><p>And Chloe smiled at her looking a bit relieved, saying, “9 works for me. Meet me at the shop around the corner.”</p><p>As the redhead walked away, Beca felt odd. She felt lighter, but she was also still so cold and lonely and terrified. She didn’t know why she’d agreed. Maybe...maybe it had something to do with the fact that she really missed Chloe’s hugs. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she really wanted to feel like it really is okay. But Beca shut those thoughts out, because it wasn’t okay, and she didn’t deserve Chloe’s love. She didn’t deserve love.</p><p>But the song she’d sang in the shower came back into her head, the later lyrics stabbing Beca’s heart because of how simply true they were.</p><p>	And no one knew that they were on the edge<br/>	‘Cause life is short and love is sweet, so love until you’re dead<br/>	So love until you’re dead</p><p>	Fine, Beca thought. I can love. I can love Chloe Beale until I’m dead. I will love her with all of my heart, but I will make sure that I’m not loved. Chloe’s better off without me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe was already sitting at a table with two cups and two scones in front of her when Beca walked into the small cafe.</p><p>She brightened when she caught sight of the small brunette, but didn’t get up to hug her like she usually would have. She didn’t want to scare her off, knowing how skittish the freshman could be. “Hey,” she said. “Black coffee, and a scone, right?”</p><p>Beca gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Uh, yeah, I’m not too hungry, so I’m just gonna have the coffee, but thanks,” she said.</p><p>Chloe nodded, pushing the cup over to her friend, who sat down across her. “So, what’d you wanna...talk about?” Beca asked, immediately regretting it. She knew exactly what Chloe wanted to talk about, and it acting like she didn’t was just going to make it more awkward and uncomfortable for both of them.</p><p>Her friend glanced down at her cup, then back up at Beca. “I wanted to talk about...just, you know. You. Your life. How everything’s going.”</p><p>Beca’s teeth snagged on her lower lip. “Oh. Uh, everything’s okay, you know, just--school and all.”</p><p>“You know that’s not what I’m asking.”</p><p>“What are you asking?”</p><p>“Don’t play dumb.”</p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>Chloe sighed. She brought her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose, and she looked wearier and more vulnerable than Beca had ever seen her. “Please, Beca. I know you’re not okay. I can see how thin you are, how you’re so jumpy and constantly hiding behind a ton of clothes, how quiet you’ve become. Don’t shut me out, not now, not after everything we’ve been through,” Chloe whispered with a pleading look in her eyes.</p><p>Beca felt a cold dread sink into her stomach. Chloe knew. Of course she knew. “I, uh, just realized that I have a class,” she said quickly. “So, um, really sorry, I--just--have to go. Thanks for the coffee, um, yeah. Bye, Chlo,” she said, getting up so fast she almost knocked over her chair. She clenched her jaw, realizing that she hadn’t called her friend that in so long--the claws of her loneliness dug even deeper into her heart.</p><p>“Beca, wait.” Chloe felt panic rise in her chest. She couldn’t let Beca leave. She just knew it--Beca had seemed so off since yesterday. </p><p>The brunette had already exited the coffeeshop and was making her way around the corner. Chloe hurried out after her, running to catch up with her and grabbing her arm, pulling her around. “Chloe, I told you, I have class. I need to go,” Beca snapped, and she felt a pang of guilt at how harsh she’d sounded. Chloe, however, didn’t seem to notice.</p><p>“Beca, stop. You’re not okay. Please, let me help you,” she said, her eyes filled with pain. “Please, Beca. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Beca briefly widened her eyes in surprise. Why was Chloe sorry? It wasn’t her fault. It was Beca’s fault. Beca’s fault for everything. She couldn’t let Chloe handle the guilt that should be her own burden. “No, Chloe. Don’t be sorry. I--wanted to leave. I’m doing great, and I just wasn’t cut out to be a Bella. Aubrey was right. I’m better off this way, without the group.” Another sharp stab of guilt. Chloe’s eyes flashed with hurt at these words, and she loosened her grip on Beca’s arm for a moment, before grabbing it again and dragging her along.</p><p>“No, Beca. You're not okay. I know you’re trying to shut me out again because it’s just easier, but I’m not letting you. Not this time.” </p><p>Beca felt a surge of panic and anger. “Chloe, no!” she nearly shouted. “I’m not going back! I’m fine!” She turned away quickly and began running back up the gum-spotted sidewalk. Suddenly, she felt her head lighten, and a fuzzy dizziness enveloped her. She forgot that she had barely eaten for the past several days, and her body was barely strong enough to carry her when she stood up. She heard a shout somewhere off in the distance. Then, everything went black.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe kneeled over Beca’s head. She’d instinctively run to catch the girl, noticing her pallid complexion and unsteadiness, and had laid her down on the sidewalk, gently stroking her face. “Beca?” she murmured.</p><p>The brunette opened her eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight that was shining directly over her head. She groaned, trying to sit up, but Chloe forced her back down. “No, Becs, you need to keep your head at or below your heart level right now. You’ll pass out again if you try sitting up.”</p><p>Beca sighed and slumped back down. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Beca, stop. Seriously. You blame yourself for everything, and it’s just not your fault.”</p><p>Beca gave a huff of frustration. “No, Chloe, it’s my fault for walking out. It’s my fault for pissing off Aubrey, it’s my fault for not dealing with it, it’s my fault for…” A tear traced a trail down her cheek. “It’s my fault for leaving you, Chloe.”</p><p>The redhead gently shook her head, tracing circles on Beca’s cheek with her thumb. “Beca, just--please don’t do it again. Don’t leave me again.” She gave Beca a sad smile, then said, “Let’s get back to my and Aubrey’s apartment. I have a car, and you’re really in no state to walk even that far.”</p><p>Chloe scooped up her friend, who was too tired to protest, and helped to steady her as she opened the door. Beca heaved herself into the car, letting out a breath as she sank into the leather seat. Chloe got in on the other side, gave Beca another small smile, and pulled the car into the street.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe opened the door to her apartment, guiding Beca onto the couch with a hand on her back. “Aubrey’s in class right now, so we’ll have some time without her. Honestly, I’m still pissed at her, but--she is sorry.” Chloe gave Beca an apologetic look.</p><p>“So,” Chloe said after a moment. She gathered her legs up on the couch, angling her body towards Beca. “Beca...what’s going on?” she murmured softly. “Look, you don’t have to tell me everything today, but...you’re so different. Everything about you has changed. When was the last time you had an actual meal?”</p><p>“I--um, I ate this morning,” Beca lied. “I’m not hungry, I told you.”</p><p>“Yeah, nice try.” Chloe got up and grabbed a sandwich from the fridge. “You’re eating this, and you’re eating the whole thing. I’m going to sit here until you finish.”</p><p>Beca felt her jaw tense. No. She couldn’t. Accepting food from Chloe meant forgiving herself. As much as she wanted to melt into Chloe’s arms, tell her that she’s sorry, that she’ll never leave her again--she couldn’t. Guilt was eating her alive. Guilt and pain and stress--she wasn’t okay, and she wasn’t ready to let her walls down.</p><p>She almost cried again when she knew what she had to say. “Hey, Chloe, thanks so much for bringing me back and stuff, but I gotta go. Don’t want to be here when Aubrey gets back, and...you know...yeah. I gotta go...um…” She winced. It was as painful for her to say as it was for Chloe to hear. “Look. I meant what I said earlier. I’m not a Bella. And I don’t...I don’t…want to be. You guys are great, but I just--don’t fit in. I’ve never fit in with people like you, and I don’t think it’s for me, so thanks again, but um, yeah. I’ll be going now.”</p><p>Chloe sat there with an unreadable expression on her face as Beca’s teeth snagged on her lower lip and she briskly walked out the door and shut it behind her without another word. The redhead’s eyes immediately began to fill with tears again. She’d thought that she’d finally gotten through to Beca. She’d thought that she’d sit her down here, and she’d ask her what’s wrong, and she’d tell her. She’d trust her. She took in a shuddering breath and let it out, tears streaming steadily down her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands and wept as if her friend had died--because alive or not, she had lost Beca.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beca had barely walked ten feet from Chloe’s door before she collapsed against a wall and began openly sobbing. She didn’t care if anyone heard her now. This was it. Chloe had come back. She’d gotten what she’d wanted and then thrown in away. You don’t deserve her, a voice whispered in her ear. You know you don’t, you never will, and she’s far better off without your pitiful excuse of a DJ.</p><p>The voice was her own, she knew, but it was dripping with venom and hate. Its words sliced through Beca’s heart, and she wanted to cry out at the pain and tell it to shut up and go away, but she just couldn’t. It was so much stronger than her--it was so much more confident. Maybe if she listened to it, it would fix her. I know, Beca thought. I know. I won’t go back.</p><p>She pushed herself off of the wall, requiring far too much effort than she had readily available in her state, and stumbled down the stairs, beginning her long trek back to her dorm.</p><p>	Beca finally arrived in front of the Baker Hall building. She reached out to push open the door, but something stopped her. She stood there, her hands extended, inches away from the handle. Dirty, something told her. Dirty, dirty, dirty.</p><p>Beca was momentarily shaken from her stupor in surprise. She hadn’t thought those words while standing before a doorknob or light switch for years. A scene flashed in her mind, a day in the first month of seventh grade. </p><p> </p><p>Everything had been going fine--she’d stayed carefully under the radar, changing in a corner of the locker room as if she was just self-conscious and not trying to hide the few fresh scabs that had formed on her hips and ribs.</p><p>But on a seemingly normal Tuesday, as she approached the school bathroom at the end of lunch, she just stared at the door instead of opening it. There had been a monster brewing under the surface for a while now, she knew, but she’d been able to scare it off with reason. Not this time, though. She gazed at the silver handle, chewing her lip, but every time she reached out to take it, a word flashed in her head. Dirty. Dirty. Dirty. Dirty. DIRTY. DIRTY. DIRTY. </p><p>Beca’s breath had caught in her throat, a wave of panic surging up in her chest and choking the breath from her lungs. DIRTY. DIRTY. DIRTY. DIRTY. She clenched her teeth, crossing her legs a bit and screaming to herself, Just open it. Just open it!</p><p>She pressed her legs together and tried not to cry, eventually running into the secluded area behind the D building of her school. She stood on the tanbark, reaching to open her backpack to grab her phone as the word blasted in her ears. DIRTY. DIRTY. DIRTY. DIRTY. She stood behind that building and wept.</p><p>It wasn’t long before the lunch bell rang and the students crowded into their respective classes, but Beca stayed behind. She urgently wanted to use the bathroom, but every time she so much as thought about being in that small room, where other people had been, whose handles other people had touched, the chant in her head grew louder. Eventually, she couldn’t hold it any longer--she couldn’t even bring herself to touch her own clothes, her arms straight and hands frozen in place to her sides. She helplessly soaked her jeans, and the words had grown so big, so loud, that they filled her brain. She finally couldn’t bear it any longer, and began clawing at her scabs along her sides. She felt blood coat her fingernails, and blacked out.</p><p> </p><p>	Beca looked back at that menacing door handle, and suddenly felt another wave of tears threaten to spill over. She wanted Chloe back. It was a mistake, leaving her. Every time she got what she wanted, she threw it away. And then it was all she could think about. Part of her didn’t want to admit it--that her will had weakened. She wanted to remind herself that she didn’t deserve Chloe. That the redhead was better off without her. She wanted to feel that same determined passion when she’d decided it was for the best that Chloe not love her.</p><p>But another part of her knew that if Chloe had appeared before her right that second, she’d collapse into her arms, sobbing, saying that she was sorry, showing her all of the vulnerable sides of her so that no matter how insane she went, trying to push Chloe away, she’d always know the truth about what was really going on, and she wouldn’t let Beca leave again. But right now, all she needed was someone to open the goddamn door.<br/>
“Mitchell?” Beca whipped around, and nearly jumped out of her skin in surprise. Standing before her was a girl she could barely recognize--her blond hair was let down and flowing softly over her shoulders, her normally icy, piercing blue eyes were tired and almost heartbreakingly sad. Aubrey Posen.</p><p>“Wh--oh, um. Hey.” Beca bit her lip and turned back to the door, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, desperately trying to will it open.</p><p>“Can we, uh...talk?” Beca turned around again in surprise.</p><p>“You mean--um--like--now?” She stammered.</p><p>Aubrey nodded. “If that’s okay?”</p><p>	“Su--sure…” Beca said, slightly wary of her apologetic demeanor.</p><p>Aubrey led her to a small bench off to the side of the building, and Beca looked at it longingly--but she knew that nothing could make her sit on that bench in her angsty state. “I’ll stand, if that’s okay.”</p><p>	“Sure.” Aubrey paused, drawing in a breath, and said, “Look, Beca...I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. How I acted was wrong, and I just--I get really stressed sometimes, and...I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. You make our group better. And,” she said, the corners of her lips twitching up in a sad smile, “Chloe really misses you. I mean that. She’s...she’s been mad at me before, but she’s never been like this. She isn’t the same, and she really, really needs you. So what I guess I’m trying to say is…” she paused again, chewing her lip. “Beca, please come back. I don’t mean to the Bellas--of course, we want you back, but I get it if it’s asking too much. Just please go back to Chloe. Please. It hurts me to hear her cry at night, whisper your name in her sleep. Please, Beca, I know you have no reason to listen to me, but please, do this for Chloe.”</p><p>	Aubrey looked at Beca with a pleading look, and Beca responded in a whisper barely audible to even herself. “Okay. Tell her I’m sorry, and I’ll...um, I’ll meet her tomorrow for coffee.”</p><p>	Aubrey gave a relieved smile and nodded. Sensing that Beca needed space, she quickly made her way across the campus, and Beca sighed. Either she’d made the best decision she ever will, or a huge mistake.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Hey, so, random comment for all the Bechloe shippers and Pitch Perfect fans in general: Watch the movies with director's and producers' commentary! There are little tidbits of Bechloe in the most obvious scenes, but they're just really interesting in their own right. The Pitch Perfect 3 DVD actually doesn't have the commentary, but the Blu-Ray does (unfortunately, no information about the kiss scene is shared, but there are some other nice comments on Bechloe from Trish Sie especially). Also, if anyone comes across any lesser-known clips of the cast or crew discussing Bechloe, a link in the comments would be very much appreciated. Anyways, here's the chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe anxiously bit her lip as she drummed her fingers against her disposable coffee mug. She was at the same table as last time, when her world had fallen apart yet again. Just then, the soft jingling of the silver bells above the door sounded, and she looked up to see a nervous Beca shyly glancing her way, then looking down at her feet.</p><p>The brunette walked over and sat down. She took a breath, beginning her well-rehearsed speech, but all she could choke out was “Hey, I’m sorry--” before her voice failed her and she had to stop talking to prevent herself from breaking out into sobs. She studied her cup, clenching her jaw and sniffing as discreetly as possible. She heard the scrape of a chair, and glanced to her right--Chloe had scooted over to her side of the table and was looking at her with a soft gaze. Beca tried again. “I--Chloe, I…”</p><p>A tear escaped from her dark eyes and she drew in a shuddering breath. She felt warm arms wrap around her and it was all she could do to not completely break down as she drank in Chloe’s smell that she’d so dearly missed. She rested her head on Chloe’s shoulder, her tears sinking into her sweater.</p><p>They stayed like this for a moment, but Chloe eventually pulled away when Beca’s tears had ceased. “So. Wanna...tell me what’s going on?” she murmured, and Beca couldn’t understand how Chloe didn’t absolutely hate her after all she’d done. Beca nodded slightly, then glanced around at the relatively low number of people in the coffeeshop. Chloe got the cue and picked up her drink, Beca doing the same. They walked over to the door, Beca a little more slowly so that Chloe would be the one to push it open, and stepped onto the sidewalk. </p><p>“Let’s walk back to my apartment, okay? Aubrey’s out.” Beca nodded, and Chloe gave her a small smile.</p><p>They walked in silence for the first few minutes, but Beca was the first to break it. “Chloe, I’m...I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I was being such a dick, I shouldn’t have left in the first place, and I’m..."</p><p>Chloe looked over at her friend, giving her a small, reassuring nod. “It’s okay. It’s alright, just...don’t leave again. Promise?” </p><p>Beca nodded, relieved, and they settled back into a comfortable silence for the rest of the walk.</p><p>	Chloe unlocked her apartment door, moving aside so Beca could walk in ahead of her. They sat down on the small couch, and Chloe set down her coffee. “So. Beca...talk to me. I just want you to tell me one thing--are you okay?”</p><p>Beca pressed her lips together, her nose burning as she tried to organize her thoughts. She had to tell Chloe. She had to tell her everything, she knew, little by little, and maybe one day Chloe will help her be okay again. If anyone could fix her, it would be the warm, beautiful redhead sitting next to her on the same couch.</p><p>“I...not...not really, I guess.” Just saying the words made Beca feel like a weight had been lifted off of her chest. She wasn’t completely free yet, but it was a first step. She was nervous, anxious, and possibly on the brink of a panic attack, but..she wanted to be okay. And admitting she wasn’t was progress in itself.</p><p>“I’ve been dealing with...stuff. After my dad left when I was 10, I had some issues come up...gradually, but it got pretty bad in high school. I was sad a lot, I started obsessing over cleanliness, didn’t know how to cope...” She nervously looked back up at Chloe, half expecting her to be horrified or disgusted for whatever reason, but the redhead was still looking at her with a patient, kind expression. </p><p>“I guess some things just set me off--when I get really stressed or go through changes, I can sort of relapse. So when I started depending on the Bellas...I kind of got scared, and when I felt threatened by Aubrey...I ran. But I know I shouldn’t have,” Beca added quickly. “I’m sorry, Chloe. To be honest, I was also just...scared. To lose you. To get attached and then…” She trailed off, but she didn’t have to finish. Chloe immediately scooted over to her and warped her arms around her warmly. She said nothing, simply stroked Beca’s hair as the lump in the brunette’s throat eased.</p><p>When they pulled away, Chloe was still gently cupping Beca’s cheek with her hand. “I want you to come live with me and Aubrey. You won’t have to pay rent or anything, Aubrey will understand, and...I just need to make sure you have someone.”</p><p>Beca nodded. “I’ll go pack a bag from my dorm--I’ll bring my sheets too, so I can sleep on the couch.”</p><p>Chloe looked at Beca in surprise. “Becs, you’re not sleeping on the couch. It’s tiny, even you couldn’t comfortably fit here during the night.”</p><p>Beca just shrugged. “I can make it work.”</p><p>“It’s totally okay if you don’t, but I was wondering...if maybe you’d want to share my bed?” Chloe asked, a bit nervously.</p><p>Beca’s eyes snapped up. Trying not to sound too eager, she replied, “Oh! Uh, yeah, I mean...if it’s okay with you…”</p><p>Chloe laughed again. “It was my idea, of course it’s okay with me! I’ll come help you pack, and then maybe we can get something to eat, yeah?”</p><p>Beca hesitated, then smiled and said, “Sounds good. Thanks.” It was the first time she hadn’t guiltily refused food since she’d left the Bellas. She was scared, incredibly nervous for reasons she didn’t quite understand--but it felt good. Chloe was her lighthouse, guiding her home, and Beca had to trust her, because in the dark, she was absolutely the only thing in sight.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beca had been living with Aubrey and Chloe for about two weeks now. Every day, Chloe would wake up to see Beca adorably nestled into her side--they’d go to sleep on their respective sides, but Beca always ended up clutching Chloe in her sleep one way or another. For a while, the redhead would just lay there, gazing upon Beca’s beautifully relaxed face, her lips sometimes even curving into a soft smile. But when she’d sit at the table, drinking coffee and starting her day’s work, the brunette would join her, and Chloe was always a bit guiltily disappointed that the haunting sadness had returned to her friend’s eyes. Still, she reminded herself, she’d come so far. She was opening up, getting used to having people caring for her. She was making progress.</p><p>The brunette also, admittedly, liked the feeling of coming home to a small meal sitting on the table with a sweet note, borrowing Chloe’s pajamas whenever she felt like it, having movie nights on the tiny couch, Chloe holding a large bowl of popcorn on her lap as Aubrey and Beca sat on either side. True, Beca hated movies, but sometimes she’d steal glances at Chloe’s face and feel a surge of love and gratefulness so overwhelming she thought it might take solid form on the couch next to her. But then, that feeling in her chest would collapse in on itself just as quickly as it had risen. She wasn’t graduating yet, but Chloe would be, Aubrey as well. And just like that, she’d be alone again. </p><p>The prospect of loneliness, of losing the one thing that held her over to the next day, would sometimes cause her to lie awake at night, and she’d only fall asleep in bouts of restless exhaustion--her body simply collapsed from the strain. She’d still stuff a razor in her pocket when going to shower, slipping it out as she undressed and standing in the water, sighing as she felt the familiar feeling of metal in her skin. </p><p>She hadn’t told Chloe yet, but she was working up the courage to do so. Every night, the two would get in bed, and Chloe would turn to Beca, brushing a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. “Are you okay?” she’d ask, and Beca would say, “I want to be.” That was enough for Chloe. To know that Beca wanted to be okay as much as she wanted Beca to be okay was enough. There was no use in forcing it--that would do more harm than good. So Chloe patiently waited until each bit of information eased its way from between Beca’s lips, and she’d listen and stroke Beca’s hair and nod.</p><p>The thing was, all of those little bits of information were just that--little. They were tiny things that Beca explained to Chloe every time she felt a particular sense of boldness that day, and Chloe was always receptive and calm, no matter how shocking or painful it was to hear bits of the terrible voices tormenting her friend every waking moment. Beca would tell her how she couldn’t touch doorknobs for the life of her, so even though Chloe made her agree that they’d look into treatment in the future, Chloe made sure to open doors for her when they were in public. Beca would tell her that sometimes the water she used when she washed her hands would be so scalding hot that her hands were left raw and painful, so Chloe would stand by her as she washed them, gently murmuring, “That’s warm enough, Becs. Your hands will be clean,” sometimes physically turning the faucet to release slightly cooler water.</p><p>The two were also becoming closer, spending more time together (as people do when they live together). While Chloe had always found Beca beautiful and was often told, “you’re only saying that because you have a toner for her” by Aubrey, she could feel herself being drawn to Beca in a way that she’d never experienced before. Beca was everything to her now. Truly the only time Beca wasn’t lurking at the back of her mind was when Beca was at the very front of her mind. Everything about the girl was just...intoxicating. But Chloe chided herself for having such thoughts about her friend. Beca was in need of help. She was vulnerable, and Chloe needed to help her, not fall in love with her. But falling in love was a funny thing--it was similar to a cartoon character casually strolling off a cliff, only realizing that they’re no longer on solid ground when it’s already too late and they plummet to the bottom of a canyon. When you fall in love, you don’t know it until it’s too late--for a while, the only thing keeping you from hurtling deep into oblivion is the invisible surface crafted by your imagination and naivety. But that surface only holds for so long.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beca could feel herself...growing. She was going in the right direction, she could feel it. The best part was, Chloe was by her side every step of the way. Beca almost wished she wouldn’t be entirely able to live without Chloe, that maybe that would make Chloe stay with her--she thought these things guiltily, of course, making sure to only fantasize about them in privacy, as if they were some nasty secret that could be discovered by someone, should they be present to hear her thoughts. </p><p>But every time Beca had entertained the thought that she maybe, possibly, had the tiniest chance of...having feelings for Chloe, she immediately dispelled the idea. Of course she wasn’t catching feelings. She was straight. She always had been, right? Maybe she’d only had two boyfriends in high school, each for about 3 weeks before moving swiftly on, but that was because she had to focus on other things, like her career. Maybe the only thing that got her through P.E. was sneaking tiny glances at the popular girls in her class as they chatted away happily while they changed in the locker room, but she was just...trying to figure out why they seemed to be in no hurry to...put clothes on? Yeah, that was it. No way was she gay or anything, she just thought that because...she thought she was special. She wanted to be special. But no, Beca reminded herself. You’re not special. You’re a pathetic, attention-seeking loser who doesn’t know how to make friends the normal way. You don’t deserve Chloe.</p><p>Those thoughts left ragged scabs on her sides and momentarily stained the tiles a pinkish color as she showered, quickly washing away down the drain along with the streams of water. But she didn’t mind--she couldn’t mind--because she knew that she deserved it. Still, being not the tallest person in the world, it stung a bit when her cuts split open again as she strained to grab something from a top shelf, and it was sometimes hard to focus because of the pain. And sometimes, she’d indulge herself by dreaming of brushing her lips against Chloe’s, tangling her fingers in her fiery red hair, tasting her strawberry lip gloss...and shortly after, she’d be pressing a tissue to her side once again, her guilt trickling out of her in little red streams.<br/>	But every day, Beca could feel her strength waxing, building in her chest, her confidence rising as her self control ebbed. One night, as they settled into bed, Chloe murmured softly to Beca, “Are you okay?” and instead of Beca responding with her routine “I want to be,” she hesitantly said, “No, not really.” This took Chloe a bit by surprise, who propped her head up on her hand, elbow on her pillow, facing Beca. “Want to talk to me?” </p><p>Beca bit her lip. “I...I’m not really okay because...well, for lots of reasons, of course, but…” she took a breath. This was it. She was going to be brave. “I have to tell you something.”</p><p>Chloe nodded, laying a hand on Beca’s upper arm and gently stroking the soft fabric of the T-shirt. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”</p><p>“I...I really like you, Chloe.”</p><p>Chloe’s heart stopped for a moment. Could Beca really be...no. She didn’t mean it that way. Chloe pushed out all hopeful thoughts from her head--the fact that Beca seemed nervous, had made it seem like an announcement--to convince herself that Beca just meant that she was grateful for Chloe’s company. So she smiled and said, “I really like you too, Becs. I knew you’d make a good friend.”</p><p>Beca’s breath hitched in her throat at the last word. Crushing disappointment filled her chest. Chloe had misinterpreted what she’d meant to say--she could’ve been clearer, really--and...this was it. Her chance was gone, and Chloe didn’t feel the same. Beca tried to hide the sob in her voice as she turned over and murmured, “Good night, Chloe.”</p><p>Of course, once she’d heard Chloe’s response, she’d thought that she’d just let it be. Let Chloe think she was just platonically thanking her for her generosity. But something in her stirred, and before she could talk herself out of it, Beca rolled over, to Chloe, who was lying on her back, propped up her body with her arms, and pressed her lips to her friend’s. </p><p>They were the sweetest thing Beca had ever tasted--she was so caught up in them that she forgot for a moment what she was doing. Realizing herself, she nearly pulled away--until she noticed Chloe’s hand tangled in her hair. Until she noticed that Chloe wasn’t shouting in disgust, rather...kissing her back. </p><p>The two remained like this for several moments, before they both pulled away just enough so their noses were still touching. “So,” Chloe said with a smile. “I guess I misunderstood what you were saying, huh?”</p><p>Beca, thankful that the dark was hiding her blush, glanced down and mumbled, “yeah,” before meeting Chloe’s gorgeous blue eyes once more.</p><p>“Should we talk about this?” Chloe murmured.</p><p>“I guess...about what, though?”</p><p>Chloe shrugged. “Just...what this means for us.”</p><p>Us. Beca smiled at the word. “Uh...this is probably too soon, but, only if you want, would you maybe...be my girlfriend?” she said hurriedly.</p><p>Chloe gave a small laugh. “Becs, I’ve been wanting to hear that since the day I saw you at the activities fair. If anything, you’re too late.”</p><p>Beca gently kissed Chloe again, then nestled into the crook of her neck. “Good night, Chlo.”</p><p>“Good night, Bec.”</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Harry Potter reference incoming :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beca could feel her need to cut waning the more she spent with Chloe. The redhead was unbelievably loving, and with every packed lunch and sweet note, Beca felt her eyes well up with tears. This was exactly the relationship she’d dreamed of. Having someone to care for her, love her, put in as much effort as she did and give her safety and security. But it hurt every time she remembered that she didn’t deserve it.</p><p>Beca had gotten a bit better with hand washing, too. Chloe would usually let her do it on her own, only checking on her if she seemed to be taking too long. One day, they’d returned home from a deli near Barden, while Aubrey was out doing...something to keep herself away from the apartment and give Beca and Chloe some space. After they’d eaten, Beca went to the bathroom to wash her hands, Chloe cleaning up the table.</p><p>The small brunette rubbed three pumps of soap onto her hands, then used her wrist to turn on the faucet to a warm setting. She washed them with her usual thoroughness, but when she turned the water off, she saw the familiar sight of soap bubbles still clinging to the spaces between her fingers. She brought her hands closer to her face, examining them, and took in all of the little cuts and cracks in the skin.</p><p>“Becs? You okay, honey?” Chloe called, but Beca barely heard her. Her jaw was clenched as thought for the millionth time, I don’t deserve Chloe. I’m ugly. I’m broken. She’s better off without me.</p><p>She felt a hand gently rest on her shoulder. She hadn’t heard the redhead come in. “Bec--” Chloe stopped when she saw Beca’s reflection. Her eyes and nose were red and she could see tears in her eyes. “Beca, baby, what’s going on?” she whispered, trying not to make her voice sound too sympathetic or worried and scare her off.</p><p>“Why do you want to be with me?” She had said it in a voice loud enough that it would hide the sob rising in her throat, but she hadn’t meant it to sound so harsh. Chloe, however, didn’t seem much fazed by the tone.</p><p>She brushed Beca’s hair to one side and gently kissed her neck, murmuring against the skin, “Why on earth wouldn’t I want to be with someone as incredible as you?” It wasn’t a question, Beca knew, but she responded anyways.</p><p>“Because I’m--I’m a dementor.”</p><p>Chloe met her eyes in the mirror, which she knew was a signal to continue. “Dementors are described to have scabbed, slimy hands,” Beca began, running her left thumb over the cracks in her right hand. “With the amount of soap I use, I can never really wash it off. I wear dark colors...and I suck the happiness out of any room I’m in.” She said it with the satirical contempt of her usual bitter humor.</p><p>Chloe gently took Beca’s hand, guiding her to turn around towards her. She pressed her lips to Beca’s in a tender but firm kiss. When she pulled away, she looked into Beca’s dark eyes and said, “Even if you were a dementor, I’d let you kiss me, because I’d trade my soul for your love.” She tucked a lock of Beca’s hair behind her ear. “But,” she said, “want to know how I can tell you aren’t a dementor?”</p><p>She tipped Beca’s chin up with her finger. “First of all, you have the most lovely face I’ve ever seen, and no matter how hard you try to hide it, it is beautiful, if you could only see what I see. I could be warm in a blizzard if you were just standing next to me. And when you’re with me, you don’t make me think of my worst memories. You’re creating my happiest ones.” Chloe wrapped her arms around Beca and held her, once again feeling that familiar pang in her heart that Beca couldn’t love herself the way she loved her--wait, what? She loved Beca…? The thought startled her a bit, but then a soft smile grew on her face. Of course she loved Beca, of course she did.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the two had finally pulled apart, Chloe silently took her hand and guided her to the bedroom. They sat down on the bed and Chloe brushed some stray tears from her face, then closed the space between them and began kissing the younger girl, pushing her onto her back on the sheets. She ran her tongue lightly on Beca’s lower lip, the brunette letting her in and deepening the kiss.</p><p>Beca wrapped her arms around Chloe and pulled the girl closer, rolling over slightly so that they were both on their sides, bodies still pressed together. Chloe’s hands drifted down from Beca’s neck to the hem of her shirt, apparently without the smaller girl noticing, but when she slipped them up the shirt to caress Beca’s bare skin, the brunette pulled away instantly and sat up, looking terrified.</p><p>“I, um…” Beca’s mouth moved without any sounds coming out. Chloe’s face told her everything she needed to know, though. Chloe knew. She’d felt it.</p><p>Beca tried to speak again, but instead felt tears streaming down her face once more, hot and fast. She pressed a hand to her mouth and quietly sobbed, unable to look at her girlfriend. </p><p>Finally, she swallowed laboriously and opened her mouth. “Chloe, I...I’m broken. I’m damaged, I’m sick. It’s not fair for you, and I’m sorry, but…” She let out a shaky breath. “This can’t work. I don’t know how I can give you the care that you deserve if I can’t do it for myself, so...I guess I’ll pack up. Tell Aubrey thanks for letting me stay.”</p><p>Beca heard a sob and nervously looked up at her girlfriend, who was standing in front of the bed she was seated on. Chloe wiped her eyes and just looked at Beca with pain etched on her face. She shook her head. “No.”</p><p>“Chlo. This is the only way you can be happy. This isn’t about me, this is about you. This is about me making you happy. I have to go.”</p><p>“No.” Chloe fixed Beca with an unreadable gaze. Beca tried to look away again, but as always, Chloe was a force too strong to pull away from. “No, Beca. You promised. You promised you’d stay, you promised you wouldn’t leave again!” She was nearly shouting by now. “Beca, if you really want to make me happy, you’ll stay. You’ll stay with me, because I need you, because I love you!”</p><p>“Well, you shouldn’t!” The words flew from Beca’s mouth before she had a chance to think them over. She heard a soft gasp and realized what she’d said. “No--no, Chloe, I’m sorry. I--I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, I...I--”</p><p>“Say it.” Chloe was fully crying now, tears gathering at her chin and dripping onto her shirt, but her voice was strong as ever. “Say, it Beca, for God’s sake, say it.”</p><p>“I love you too.” It was barely a whisper, but Chloe heard it. She froze and looked at her girlfriend, small and vulnerable, sobbing into her knees as she buried her face in them.</p><p>Chloe sat next to her, the mattress dipping under her weight. “Then stay. Stay, Beca, if not for you, then for me. Stay. Stay. If you think you’re making my life in any way worse, then please listen to me when I say that I can’t live without you. That if you leave me again, you’ll be hurting me, and I will never recover. So stay.”</p><p>Beca sniffed, raising her head slightly to look at Chloe. Chin quivering, she gave a slight nod, then covered her face once more with her hands and cried. Chloe, chest tightening at the sight of her girlfriend, hugged her to her chest and stroked her hair until the smaller girl fell asleep from utter exhaustion. Chloe carefully placed her under the covers and crawled in, heart breaking a bit more every time she remembered that feeling of Beca’s rough scabs and uneven scars on her hands.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe was sitting on the couch, drinking coffee, when Beca walked out the next morning. Both of their eyes were puffy from crying, but they smiled weakly at each other and murmured a good morning.</p><p>Beca took a seat next to her girlfriend when she’d gotten her own coffee, and cleared her throat nervously. Chloe, sensing her discomfort, started. “So, we should talk about last night, yeah?”</p><p>Beca nodded nervously. Chloe scooted closer to her, wrapping an arm around the freshman. “Becs, please don’t be scared around me. I’m here to listen, okay? I’m your girlfriend, I love you, there’s no reason to be nervous.”</p><p>“‘Kay.” Beca took a breath. “So...um...it started in high school, sort of. Well, back then, when I got overwhelmed or sad or anxious, I’d just hit my arm, usually. But the bruises were really noticeable and people started getting suspicious when I wouldn’t take off my jacket or wear something lighter in hot weather. And I just felt like...I wasn’t hurting enough. Everything about self harm centered around cutting, and...I don’t know. I just needed to feel like I...I don’t know. It’s stupid, I know, I just…” Beca bit her lip. It was stupid. Chloe would think so, she’d judge her, she’d wonder how someone could be so pathetically needy for attention…</p><p>She glanced up. Chloe was watching her with warm eyes. The redhead reached out and took her girlfriend’s hand, nodding with a small smile to encourage her to continue. “No, it’s not, Becs. I’m listening.”</p><p>Beca let out a breath and went on. “So...I started cutting. With a disposable razor, blades still attached. It was never deep, just bled for a bit and then stung for a while, but I never needed stitches or anything. Luckily, it never got infected either, so...yeah. Anyways, I would do it over my ribs. Because the bones protrude there, it’s easier to get the blades through, and my shirt always hid it, so.” She took a deep breath and continued. “Well, I decided to stop my senior year. I had a friend who was self harming. She was one of the kindest people I’d ever met...she was that one person who’d stay with me even when everyone else was leaving to go somewhere else, she’d stay by my side. But...she was hospitalized a couple of times for suicidal thoughts and self harm. My mom found out about it, and she wasn’t happy that I was spending time with her. So, I stopped. Cold turkey. I hadn’t been doing it for long, but it was still difficult stopping. I just...couldn’t lose the only person who’d ever really been nice to me.”</p><p>Chloe nodded, gently rubbing Beca’s shoulder to comfort her. Beca bit her lip. “Leaving was the biggest mistake I ever made,” she whispered, her voice quivering. “And I...hated myself for it. That self-hate never really went away, but it just got so loud and intrusive, and I saw my razor, and I remembered how it felt…” She let out a soft sob.</p><p>“Oh, honey,” Chloe whispered, drawing Beca to her chest and hugging her as the younger girl cried. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. But I’m here now, okay, we’re gonna get through this together.”</p><p>Beca wiped her eyes and nodded. “Are--are you going to tell Aubrey?”</p><p>“Not if you don’t want me to.”</p><p>“Okay. She knows we’re dating though, right?”</p><p>“Yeah. She does.” Chloe smiled as she remembered her friend’s face when she’d told her. She’d almost forgotten how close they’d been before it all fell apart.</p><p>Chloe brushed a tear from Beca’s face. “Listen, Becs...I think you should come back to the Bellas. Please. I think...I think it’d be good for you, you shouldn’t be this isolated.”</p><p>Beca nodded. “I don’t want them knowing, though. I mean, if they find out we’re dating, that’s fine, but...not about the other stuff.”</p><p>“Of course, baby. I have to tell Aubrey that you’re going through some stuff, though, but I promise I won’t tell her any more than that. She just needs to know, since she’s captain and all.”</p><p>“‘Kay. When…” she smiled at Chloe. “When do I start?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Okay, great job girls! Let’s wrap it up for today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca sighed in relief when Aubrey finally called for practice to end. It was her fourth rehearsal after leaving, but it almost felt like everything was back to how it was since the beginning--with Aubrey being less of a bitch, of course, especially since she was still pretty excited about being eligible to compete in the finals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette had been worried about coming back to the group--she’d always hated arriving somewhere and having the spotlight on her. She never changed her clothing style or haircut just to avoid being the center of attention. She’d asked Chloe to tell the Bellas that she was coming back beforehand to hopefully make things less awkward and surprising for them, but they still gave her an excited and warm welcome, and Beca realized she’d forgotten how much she’d loved their hugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stacie and Fat Amy had given her a brief pat on the back and congratulations for enduring another rehearsal, and she was still smiling in thanks when Chloe walked over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” the redhead said with a smile, “feeling okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca nodded, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend in a rare display of affection in public. “I’m so glad I came back,” she murmured into Chloe’s ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, so, we’re having a little party to celebrate making it to finals--the other groups minus the Trebles are gonna be there. Think you can make it? It’s on Friday at 6 in the riff-off pool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Is Aubrey driving?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloe nodded. “Great!” She slung her arm around Beca’s shoulders as they walked back towards Chloe’s car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aubrey was already by the door at 5:30, claiming that because she’s captain, she has to be there at least 15 minutes early. Beca and Chloe just shrugged and went with it, choosing not to argue. By the time they were there, some of the others had arrived as well, laden with drinks and snacks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca fidgeted with her hands nervously--she still wasn’t a fan of social gatherings, but she knew that Chloe would’ve stayed home with her if she hadn’t gone. “Want me to stay here with you?” her girlfriend murmured as they entered the pool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca shook her head. Well--of course that’s what </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted, but there was no way that she was letting Chloe stand by her side for moral support as she moped around with a drink she wasn’t ever going to consume. “No, of course not, Chlo. Go ahead, I’ll be okay,” she said with a tight smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloe nodded. “Okay, well, just come get me if you need anything. We can leave whenever you want. Oh, also,” she added, “I packed some water if you don’t wanna drink. Okay, love you!” she said, giving Beca a quick peck on the cheek before heading off into the crowd. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca wandered over towards the cooler to grab the water, just to pretend she was doing something. “Hey, Beca!” Stacie said, grabbing a beer. “Glad you showed up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca nodded. “Yeah, Chloe really wanted to come, so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stacie cocked her head in confusion for a moment. “Wait, are you...are you and Chloe...living together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment’s hesitation, Beca nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’m just crashing her and Aubrey’s apartment,” she said, hoping that Stacie wouldn’t have any more questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, okay,” she said. “You know, I’d think Aubrey might have a problem with the noise when you guys are doing it, ‘cause, I mean, she stays up insanely late studying on Fridays, like I’m pretty sure she gets 3 hours of sleep at most, but she seems like she’s loosened up, somehow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca’s face reddened. “What? Oh, no, we haven’t...uh--we’re not--wait, how do you know that Aubrey stays up that late on Fridays?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stacie just looked over at the blonde, who flashed her a quick smile and looked away, grinning. “Oh,” she said airily, “I might’ve stayed over a few nights.” She threw Beca a quick wink as she walked off, leaving the brunette with knowledge that raised far more questions than it answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Stacie had left, though, the familiar anxiety of being alone in the middle of a party settled into Beca’s stomach. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to forget where she was, blocking out the sounds and sights of the people surrounding her. She looked around again, and something silver caught her eye. The handles on the side of the pool just above the steps cut into the pool wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She glanced over at her girlfriend, who was chatting happily with Aubrey and some members she didn’t know that were part of a different group. A voice spoke in her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What if you jumped?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, surprised. Why would she do that? The voice spoke again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What if you did? What if you climbed those steps, and what if you just...jumped? And what if Chloe saw you...saw you fall and smash your head on the concrete, what if you jumped for no reason and never left a note and just left Chloe here all alone...what if you jumped?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca’s breath was coming short now. No, she thought. I won’t do that. I won’t. That’s crazy. Why would I do that? She desperately tried to find somewhere else to look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What if you took Chloe with you? What if you brought her with you up those steps, and what if you said, “Let’s jump!” and what if you grabbed her hand and you both fell to the bottom of the pool--</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Beca gasped. She looked around quickly to make sure no one had heard her--no one seemed to have. She glanced over at the open cooler. A beer was sticking up in the ice, taunting her to come closer and grab it. “Fuck it,” she muttered, grabbing the brown bottle and opening it, then downing half of it in a quick motion. She felt just slightly lightheaded, but not much. She caught the silver railing in her peripheral vision again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What if you jumped?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca wanted to throw up. She downed the rest of the bottle and tossed it in a garbage bag that was being used as a trash can, then quickly made her way to her girlfriend, getting more anxious with every step. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we go?” Beca whispered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe looked up in surprise. “Wh--uh--yeah--yeah,” she stammered, looking at her girlfriend with concern. “Everything okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca nodded quickly, unsure of how to answer that question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe frowned slightly. “Alright, let me just tell Aubrey,” she said, jogging over to the blonde, who was now leaning against the pool wall in conversation with Stacie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The redhead hurried back over to Beca, who was fidgeting and tapping her foot against the pale concrete. “Okay, we’re good. We’ll have to walk, though, if that’s okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca nodded. Anything to get out of where they were.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two walked home in silence, each too nervous to say anything before they were in the comfort of their apartment. Chloe unlocked the door wordlessly and let Beca pass, then set the keys down in the bowl next to the door and took a seat on the sofa beside her girlfriend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Beca was staring at the carpet guiltily. Chloe had clearly been having a good time, and as always, she had ruined it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be,” Chloe murmured, tucking a lock of her girlfriend’s chocolate hair behind her ear. “It’s okay, love,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca bit her lip and stared at the ground. “You look like you want to say something,” the redhead said, her heart breaking slightly at the sight of her girlfriend looking so small.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just tired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe nodded. She leaned over and captured Beca’s lips in a kiss, but pulled away after a moment. She frowned, then sighed and looked at the brunette with a sad gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really, Beca? Alcohol?” she whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca tensed, avoiding her girlfriend’s eyes. “You and Aubrey are really the only ones that are of age, and Amy took half the vodka--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know I’m not talking about age.” Chloe shook her head, sighing softly. “Beca, you don’t drink. What happened to ‘make good choices’? What’s going on, Becs?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca stared at the floor, feeling her girlfriend’s blue eyes searching her own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re scaring me,” Chloe whispered. “Please, Beca, talk to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I--I was just...scared,” Beca mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Of what?” Her girlfriend didn’t respond. “Beca,” Chloe murmured, “please tell me what’s going on. I promise I’ll still be here when you’re done, I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca took a shaky breath and nodded. “Um...I just...heard voices. Not in the way you’re thinking,” she added quickly. “Just these thoughts that kept popping into my head. I saw the railing on the side of the pool and thought, ‘what if I climbed up those steps and jumped?’ and then…what if I brought you with me? What if we went up those steps and then I made you jump with me and we died?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A tear fell onto Beca’s lap. She went on. “I just got really nervous. I didn’t want to hurt you, Chlo. I was so scared that something would make me do something awful and I’d hurt you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe’s light blue eyes were shining with tears, but she blinked them away. She had to be strong for her girlfriend. “I’m sorry that was happening to you, Becs,” she murmured. “But it’s okay, you’re not going to hurt me, Beca, I promise.” She squeezed her girlfriend’s hand, knowing that the small brunette wouldn’t believe her, but it had to be said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca sighed softly and nodded. “I am tired, though,” she said after a moment. “I think I’m going to take a shower and then head to bed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe nodded, then went to the bedroom to change, then settled into bed with a book, planning on reading until Beca was done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’d read three chapters by the time she realized that she couldn’t hear the water running from the shower. A jolt of panic went through her when she remembered that she’d left her razor in there, and she scrambled out of bed to the bathroom, gingerly pressing her ear against the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Beca?” she called out after knocking a couple times on the door. “Baby, you okay?” There was no answer, but Chloe could hear a faint whimper from inside the bathroom. “I’m coming in,” she said, relieved to find that the door wasn’t locked.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>The shower curtain was closed, so the redhead tentatively pulled it aside, drawing in a sharp breath at what she saw. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Beca!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Beca let out a soft sigh as she undressed. Her eyes fell on her scabbed and scarred stomach, and she ran a hand over the freshest cut--it was shallower than any of the others. She’d guiltily and nervously asked a random girl in the gym changing rooms for a razor, and, to her surprise, she’d handed over a cheap, two-bladed razor without a word. She’d felt awful for going behind her girlfriend’s back, but she’d so missed the feeling. It was irresistible, and the guilt would wear off.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She stepped into the shower, turning on the water and reaching for the soap, when she noticed Chloe’s green-handled razor sitting in the little basket that hung from the showerhead. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You should do it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Beca bit her lip. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You’re going to do it, you know. You’re going to do it. What if you did it, and Chloe saw, and then what if you grabbed her arm and did it to her? What if you thought, oh, I’m just going to show Chloe what it feels like, and then you just went right over to her and cut through her skin as if it was your own?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No,” she whispered. “I can’t--I wouldn’t--” She sighed in defeat. The thin blades glinted at her almost innocently, and she imagined dragging them over her ribs, the sting and the burn of it, the world melting away as the only thing that mattered was the metal in her skin…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She turned off the water and pulled it sharply across her right ribs, grunting softly at the feeling. She did the same on her left side, then again on her left and then on her right. Right, left, left, right. Left, right, right, left. Right, left, left, right. She glanced down to see streams of blood mixed with the water on her skin trickling down to her waist. She closed her eyes and continued. Left, right, right, left. Right, left, left, right. Left, right, right, left. She was running out of room.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No! You can’t stop now. You’re only halfway through the pattern. You have to keep going. What if you stop, and then Chloe sees and then you use that razor on her? Finish the pattern. Then you won’t hurt Chloe. Finish the pattern.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Left, right, right, left. Right, left, left, right. Left, right, right, left. Right, left, left, right. Left, right, right, left. Right, left, left, right. She looked down again, almost afraid of what she’d see. She vaguely registered Chloe’s voice behind the door. “I’m coming in.” A thrill of fear shook Beca back into consciousness, but it was too late. Chloe had already pulled aside the curtain and gasped in shock. “Beca!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Beca opened her eyes slowly, hoping that the vague memory of what had happened was just a dream. She moved to sit up, but groaned at the sting of her recent cuts. Lifting her shirt hesitantly, her eyes fell on the Band-Aids plastered over her sides, the memories rushing back to her at once. Chloe had found her in the shower, and Beca could see her fighting back tears. She’d tried to tell the redhead that the water mixing with the blood made it look worse than it was, but Chloe didn’t speak. She just carefully cleaned and dressed the wounds, getting some clothes for Beca to put on, and ended up carrying the brunette back to bed in silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe sat down on the edge of the bed, a little farther away from her girlfriend than she usually would have. “Hey,” she murmured, and Beca was relieved to see that while accompanied by pain and sadness, there was still undeniable warmth and love in those blue eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she mumbled. “I’m--I’m sorry,” she whispered, eyes filling with tears despite her promise to herself that she wasn’t going to cry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her girlfriend reached over and brushed a tear from her cheek with her thumb before it could fall to her chin. “It’s okay. It’s okay, it was bound to happen,” she said softly. “But we do need to talk.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca winced at those words, but nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I made some oatmeal,” Chloe said, standing up and waiting for Beca to do the same before walking to the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca yawned and glanced at the clock on her way out of the bedroom, eyes widening at the time. “Shit, Chlo, you’re supposed to be in class!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said I was sick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca felt a stab of guilt. “You didn’t have--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I did.” Chloe sat down, wrapping her hands around her cup of coffee. “Beca, it’s not your fault. Okay? I know it’s not your fault.” She sighed. “But it--it’s not easy to walk into the bathroom and see…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca bit her lip. “I know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to find help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The brunette shook her head. “I know, Chlo. But...not now. I don’t have the money.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t you ask your father?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what he’ll do. He could take everything away, Chloe. He already backed out on helping me move to LA, and if he doesn’t sign off on my tuition, I can’t stay at Barden.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe sighed. “Right now, I’d say it’s worth the risk. But I won’t force you into anything. Whatever you choose, I’m with you,” she murmured, reaching across the table to take Beca’s hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Relieved, Beca nodded. “Thank you. And I promise, I’m going to get help one day. Just...not yet. Not now.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'm backkk :p</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Beca unlocked the door to the apartment and set the keys in the dish beside the door, giving her girlfriend a greeting. She walked over to the redhead sitting at the table, giving her a quick hug from behind and a kiss on the head. Before she could walk away, though, Chloe grabbed her wrist and examined the pink marks on it, brow creasing with concern. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Beca, what’s this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her girlfriend reached into her pocket and took out a rubber band, placing it on the table beside Chloe. “Progress,” she said. “I’m working on quitting self harm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe whipped her head around to look at Beca. Her blue eyes shone with tears, hope etched all over her face. “Beca, that’s amazing!” She stood and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend. “I’m so proud of you, baby,” she murmured. “We’re going to do this together, okay? I’m going to be here for you every step of the way, I know you can do this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca felt a pang of guilt. She knew, deep down, that...she wasn’t really trying to quit. She knew that stopping for a while and letting the scabs turn to scars would just make the relapse all the sweeter. She felt awful and knew that the excitement and pride on her girlfriend’s face would haunt her as thoughts of stopping by a dollar store to pick up a razor would plague her mind, but at least for now, she decided, she’d really try to stop. She really would, and maybe the urge would go away if she ignored it long enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she murmured.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been about a week after Beca had officially decided to try to quit. Sure, she was still snapping the rubber band too hard on her wrist, to the point that she wasn’t sure whether or not it was considered harm, but she hadn’t drawn blood in a while, and she was proud. It was painful, a gnawing hunger that was always at the front of her mind, but it was progress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And there was Chloe. Every time Beca gazed longingly at the knives in the kitchen, Chloe seemed to know exactly what was going through her head. Every moment she wasn’t getting up to grab a blade and drag it through her skin was a victory, and no matter how down Beca felt after walking away from that beautifully painful sensation, she was greeted by warm blue eyes and sweet smiles and flowery-smelling hugs, and she knew that she had done the right thing. But it was never easy. She was perpetually teetering on the edge of insanity. She knew it, and she knew that Chloe knew it too. The redhead had thrown out or hidden all of the sharp objects that Beca saw. The knives were no longer in the holder on the counter, and the razors had disappeared from the cabinets. And that made things just a little bit easier, and every day she wondered if that urge would ever just disappear. If Chloe’s eyes and hair and smiles and hugs would chase it away, and finally she could just be okay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Beca knew that Chloe was the only reason keeping her away from tearing the apartment apart to find the knives and razors, and she knew that Chloe knew it too. Every time she kissed Beca goodbye as she left, her smile never quite reached her eyes, and there was a slight crease between her brows that wasn’t there a moment ago, and they were both thinking about the same thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And...eventually, she nearly cracked. As both of them knew that she would. It was Aubrey who came back to the apartment one evening after class and found pieces of shattered glass all over the small kitchen, and Beca sitting on the floor, breathing heavily and holding a shard of it over her arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca barely heard her come in. She’d only meant to get a glass of water from the cupboard, but when it’d slipped out of her hand--when it crashed onto the floor and a few pieces stung her feet and legs with their sharp edges--the world had gone quiet. She barely felt herself reach down and pick up a larger fragment, and just hover it there over her arm, desperate for the pain, as a small voice somewhere in her head warned her not to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god--</span>
  <em>
    <span>Beca!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The brunette glanced up, eyes glassy. Carefully stepping around the shards littering the ground, Aubrey hurried to the younger girl. “Beca,” she whispered, “put it down.” She sat there, unmoving, for a moment, before feeling Aubrey’s fingers gently prying the glass from her hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if suddenly plunged into reality, she dropped the fragment as if she’d been burned and stood. “Oh my god. Oh my god! Aubrey, I’m--I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry, I--shit--I didn’t mean to--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shh, it’s alright. It’s okay, Beca, you’re okay,” the blonde murmured, rubbing Beca’s arm. “It’s okay. I’m gonna call Chloe, alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s out of class already?” Beca asked, surprised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah--yeah, of course, she is,” Aubrey assured her (she wasn’t--but Beca didn’t need to know that). “Why don’t you just...go get ready for bed, and I’ll clean up here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I’ll help, I--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Aubrey shook her head. “No, Beca, I think it’s better if you just got ready for bed right now. Chloe will be home soon, I’m just gonna call her.” Her voice was soft, but Beca could hear the slight edge to it, and she knew that it was best to obey and head to the bedroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aubrey gave a small sigh as she watched the brunette leave, looking smaller and more fragile than ever. She reached into her purse for her phone, and quickly found Chloe’s contact. Knowing she was probably in a lecture hall, she sent her a text first:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A: need to talk to u. it’s beca. can u head home?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She bit her lip anxiously as she waited a few minutes for a reply, picking her way around the glass shards to the broom with her phone in her pocket. Finally, her phone buzzed, Chloe’s contact popping up on the screen. She swiped to answer it, and held it to her ear, glancing towards the door to make sure that Beca couldn’t hear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aubrey! What happened? I just told the professor I’m sick, and I’m heading back now. When did you get back? Is Beca okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just got back now. Beca’s fine, just a little shaken. There was glass all over the floor and she was holding a piece over her arm--she didn’t cut herself or anything,” she added quickly, “but it looked like she wanted to. She’s in the bedroom now getting ready for bed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank god,” Chloe whispered on the other end. “Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Thank you so much, Aubs.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. I’m gonna be cleaning up here, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. See you in a bit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Aubrey swept the glass pieces into the dustpan in her hand, the doorknob rattled a bit and Chloe rushed in, a little out of breath and her brow creased with worry. “Hey,” she murmured in a low voice, not wanting to make her presence too obvious to Beca.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aubrey gave her a small smile. “Hey. Beca took a shower and I think she’s in bed right now, though I doubt she’s sleeping.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe nodded, giving Aubrey a quick hug and peck on the cheek after setting down her purse. “Thanks,” she murmured, and headed into the bedroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe opened the door slowly and quietly, reminding herself that right now, she needed to be calm, strong, put together. For Beca. The brunette was indeed lying in bed, on her side away from Chloe. The redhead bit her lip--her girlfriend was curled up in the sheets, and she looked smaller than ever. Chloe walked over and took a seat on Beca’s side of the bed, beside her feet. “Hey, Becs,” she murmured quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca looked at her. “Hey.” Her voice sounded empty and dull, breaking Chloe’s heart. The older girl gave a sad sigh and gently rubbed Beca’s arm through the sheets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aubrey told me what happened,” she murmured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” her girlfriend whispered back, and her voice broke just enough that Chloe knew she was crying. Beca looked up at her. “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Chloe shook her head, and gently brushed a lock of chocolate hair from Beca’s face. “No, baby, don’t ever be sorry. You are so strong,” Chloe whispered, eyes filling with tears. “You are so strong, and I’m so proud of you. Just for trying. Just for...for getting through each day and being the kind, smart, amazing person that you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca gave a quiet laugh. It was a sweet sound, and seeing her girlfriend smile melted Chloe’s heart. The smaller girl sat up and moved over to Chloe, laying her head on her shoulder. “What if I’m not strong, Chloe?” she murmured. “Sometimes I feel really, really weak. I’m...drowning when everyone else is swimming just fine. I can shatter at any moment, like I’m this...this fragile person that everyone else has to tiptoe around.” She sighed, and the loathing in her voice chilled Chloe. “I’m just a pile of broken parts, Chlo. What if I never get better? What then? You deserve someone better than this...this mess that I am.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and Chloe felt them soak into her shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe moved her head so that Beca could look right into her eyes. It was a firm gaze--not unkind, but firm. Chloe shook her head sternly, and after a moment, finally spoke. “Who do you think you are?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca furrowed her brow for a moment, bewildered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who do you think you are to speak that way about my girlfriend?” Chloe’s voice had hardened to a comical degree, and a ghost of a smile flitted across Beca’s lips. “Young lady, I’ll have you know that my girlfriend is the best DJ I’ve ever seen in all my years, and she’s only in college! She’s smart, too, and the kindest in all the world! Don’t tell me any of that nonsense, I simply will not have any of it!” Her brows had become straight and flat, and were pressed together, her voice deepening in what sounded like an impression of Beca’s high school principal giving detention to some kids he caught graffitiing the school grounds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beca laughed, and Chloe did too, finally breaking character. “I love you so much,” Beca murmured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe smiled. “I love you too, babe. Just get some rest now, okay? I’ll be back in a bit.” Beca nodded, gently pressing her lips to Chloe’s and then lying back down the bed, pulling the sheets over herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe got up and closed the door with a quiet </span>
  <em>
    <span>click</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She sat down on the sofa after a moment, placing her head in her hands. Aubrey was pouring the final shards of glass into the bin from the dustpan. “Thank you so much, Bree,” she murmured. “I’m just glad you got here...before…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad too,” the blonde replied, placing the dustpan and broom back and taking a seat next to Chloe. “So,” she said, “this is...this is what’s been going on, huh? The...the ‘stuff’ that Beca’s been going through.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloe sighed softly. “Yeah. Yeah, she didn’t want to tell people, but uh...yeah. She’s been trying to stop, but I guess today was just a bad day.” Chloe looked up at Aubrey, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. She smiled. “I’m so proud of her, Bree, she’s gotten so far. I just...I don’t want her to beat herself up about this. I know she will, and I just want her to know that I...I trust her, you know? I trust her, and I believe in her, and I know she’s strong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aubrey nodded. She was silent for a moment, appearing to be thinking deeply about something. Finally, she spoke. “Chloe?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The redhead looked up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s time.”</span>
</p>
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